Title: Through the Prism of
an Addiction
Author: Kountry001
Fandom: The Fast and The Furious Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Pairing: Brian/Dom
Summary: Brian’s realizes that he’s addicted.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related with the TFATF. I don't own the
characters or the story.

Author's notes & Warnings: This is my first TFATF fic, and I've taken
literary license with some of the events in 2F2F. It’s not betaed, so I
apologize in advance for any errors or reptitiveness. I haven’t read it over
like I should because I needed to get out of my head so that I can work on my
thesis. I have to tell it was very distracting so I’m hoping that by writing
the thing and get it out of my system, I can concentrate.

Addiction. It’s not something you can really understand unless you’ve
experienced it. It’s a disease they say – something beyond your control. Once
an addict, always an addict. An addict will do anything – lie, cheat, steal –
for a fix. Due to dependency, an addict will need more and more to get the same
effect. Sure, I’d heard this stuff in the Academy, but I’d never really
understood it . . .until I met Dom. The funny thing about dependency is that it
sneaks up on you. You start off with a little bit and then you find you need
more and more. That’s how it was with Dom.

The first time I saw him, I felt this flutter in my stomach. After that day,
I’d go to that damn place every day, hoping that it would be the day that I’d
find my way in, and if my heart happened to speed up every time I saw Dom,
well. . .it was only the adrenaline kicking in. Right?

Then, I was in. I was spending all my free time with Dom and
the guys. At first, it was to fix up that damned car, but soon, it became more
about them – all of them. Jesse’s chatter. The murmur of Leon, Vince and
Letty’s voice followed by the rumble of Dom’s. Family, something I hadn’t had
in a long time, and I sat back and soaked it up like a cat lying in the sun.

Even that changed, and it became about Dom’s laughter, his
smile, his smell, and just being around him, working closely with him, talking
with him. I just couldn’t get enough of him (not that I was conscious of it),
and by that time, I knew I was in too deep . So I did my job. I stuck it out
and sucked it up. I wanted to be honest. I wanted to tell him, but I knew that
I’d lose him. That I’d be lucky if he didn’t kill me.

I continued living my lie, even roping Mia into it. At the
time, I thought that I loved her. It was only later, when I was holding her
that I’d realized that when I was touching her, my mind translated it to
touching him. That her tan skin and brown eyes had actually become his. That’s
when my love for Dom hit me. It made me sick to realize that I’d sunk so low.
That I'd subsituted his sister for him. . .all because I wanted to be close to
him. I tried my best to tone things down with her, but I knew that if I hurt
her, I’d lose Dom. So like the addict that I’d become, I did anything to get
more time with him. . .to get close to him. . .to protect him.

I knew that he’d never feel about me the way I felt about
him. After all, he had Letty, so I settled for being his friend and hating
myself for my lie. Everything was fine until Hell Day, as I’ve come to think of
it, occurred. I didn’t have a choice, so as I called for that damned
helicopter, I knew everything that I'd been dreading - fearing - had finally
happened. Any affection that he’d felt for me died under the fire of betrayal,
hurt and anger, and as I watched that light go off, I felt a piece of me die at
the knowledge that it was over. . .that I’d lost him. The pain was so acute
that I thought I was having a heart attack. But I knew that he’d go for Jesse
and Mia, and that I had to stop him before he made things worse for himself. It
was for that reason that I went after Tran, not just for Jesse but for Dom too.

When I pulled up beside him, I held my breath as I looked at
him, hoping that he’d accept my apology and see my loyalty, and when his eyes
showed his challenge for that final race, I knew this was it. The last ride
with him, and I knew I couldn’t turn it down. In those few seconds, it was just
the two of us, and even under the exhaustion, adrenaline and the fear, I felt
contentment. There was never any hesitation on my part to jump those tracks
even when the train was coming. Subconsciously, I knew that if Dom got hit,
we’d both die, and I was fine with that because it’d mean that we’d be going
together.

The next thing I knew we were clear, and looking into his
eyes, I could see happiness and triumph – not only because he’d won but also
because he’d been victorious over his fear of the Beast. For those few seconds,
I felt like we were complete, but then that damned truck came out of nowhere
and ruined the moment. Watching it hit Dom and seeing that car flip, almost
made me pass out. Yup. Me. Pass out like some girl. Heart pounding in my ears,
I couldn’t help my panicked and frantic tone. It was one thing for me to know
that he was alive somewhere, living his life and finding happiness; it was
another to watch him die. Pulling up the Beast, I looked at him and, despite
the blood and the dirt, he was beautful. Then, I heard him say, “That’s not
what I had in mind,” and all was right again. Until I had to watch him race
away, taking all that was left of me with him.

There was never any doubt that I’d protect him. I knew that
from the moment I’d realized my addiction. The thing that got me, though, was
how harsh they treated me. I’d figured that without evidence, I’d get kicked
off the force or at least, get suspended. Should’ve known better I guess.

I took off. Mile after mile, I’d replay every moment that
I’d spent with him and the team. Night after night, I'd dream about Dom dying
in the crash, of him killing me, and of that last race never taking place. The
only way to assure myself that it had happened was to race, which was fine with
me because it was the only way I could earn cash. In those few seconds, I would
feel contentment because it was like that final race over and over again. Like
a junkie, I started doing them more and more, just to experience that
contentment. . .that sense of completeness. I almost panicked when I had to
abandon the car; my nerves and body physically shaking at the thought that I’d
never get to feel that again.

It was only when I got my hands on that car in Texas that I
felt right again because I knew that I’d be able to be close to Dom again. I’d
earned enough cash to get garage time, but then I entered a new kind of hell. I
found I didn’t need music to keep me company. No, I started to hear Dom in my
head. . .to hear Mia and the guys again.

Then, one day, I heard his beloved voice say, “You’re a hard
man to find.” I’d taken to talking to him in my head, not wanting anyone to
know exactly how crazy I was. It was only when I felt his warm hand on my
shoulder that I knew he was real. After it became apparent that he wasn’t going
to pound the shit out of me, I relaxed and took him in. He was thinner and
looked exhausted but damn, he was somethin'. “We need to talk,” he said, and I
nodded. For the next few days, it was heaven. We talked while working on the
car, getting to known each other again as friends, and I was home again.

The day of Jesse’s birthday came, and we bought some hard
liquor and got stinking drunk. I kissed him that night. His brown eyes
glittered with surprise and inebriation, and I expected him to slam his big
fist into my jaw. The next thing I knew he was leaning in and kissing me.
Things got even better from there. Clothes disappeared. His fingers on my skin.
It was heaven.

This started a new pattern. We never talked about it, and
that was fine with me. The feel of his skin. The touch of his lips on my mine.
The feel of him pounding into me. I started to crave them all. I couldn’t help
it. I was an addict. I needed more and more. Sometime I’d think that the
gentleness in his touch was the only way he could show that he loved me too,
and in the dark, I’d pretend that I could read love instead of lust in those
eyes.

Then I fucked everything up. One night, the feelings were
just too intense, and I told him. I said it out loud. I gave my heart to him,
and in the next moment, cold and distant brown eyes stared down at me for a
moment before he got up, gathered his stuff and walked out. It was then I knew
that I’d lost him again, and this time, the pain was almost more than I could
bear. For the first time since all this shit happened, I let myself cry.

I left Texas the next morning, feeling bereft without Dom. I
tried to bury my feelings. . .to get over him. I did such a great job that
soon, I found myself not caring about much of anything anymore. The only time I
let myself feel was when I was racing. The adrenaline pumping in my veins,
drowning out his voice. The rush of a win. The focus required, preventing all
other thoughts. I'd simply substituted one addiction for another, but I didn't
realize it. I thought of it as my form therapy, so I started to do it more and
more. Soon, I began to take bigger risks. That’s what happened in Miami and led
Bilkins to me.

When they asked me who I wanted as my partner for the op,
the first person I thought of was Dom. I mentally chastised myself and said
Rome, but I made arrangements to get Dom’s record taken care of and to get that
damned Charger out of impound. I justified my actions as telling myself that I
was paying my debt. . .making things right and that this would sever our ties
forever. It made me feel nauseous, but I felt I had to do it.

It was months after the Verone operation, and I’d finally
acknowledged that I’d never got over Dom. That I was still addicted. I can just
picture myself standing at some AA or NA meeting and say, “My name is Brian
O’Connor, and I’m addicted to bald, tanned Italian men with a serious
adrenaline addiction and a love for cars.” God, that sounds like a personal ad.
All that’s missing are my stats.

Racing and the garage brought back poignant memories,
hitting me over the head again and again. Eventually, the pain dulled, but it
never went away. Rome had asked about me about it once, and it took me awhile
to tell him, worrying that I’d lose him too. Never happened though. All that
worry over nothing. He tried to help and be a good friend, but there was only
so much he could do.

Jesse’s birthday rolled around again, and this time the
memories came at me so hard that I gasped. Me and Dom in bed. Me and Dom
racing. Me and Dom hanging out. Me and Dom drinking Coronas and watching TV. Me
and Dom shooting the breeze and talking cars. Just me and Dom. It was too much.
I was miserable all day, and all I really wanted to do was get drunk and try to
forget. I thought I’d succeeded. That is until, I woke up from my booze-induced
coma and heard his voice whisper, “Brian.”

Goddamnit! I groaned, closing my eyes tightly in an
attempt to control the rush of feeling that sound brought. Episodes where Dom
would suddenly infuse my senses had become a frequent occurrence. They’d
started as dreams and had soon proceeded to come when I was awake. So I knew as
soon as I opened them, I’d realize that it was only the wind coming through the
windows or the whisper from the air conditioner. . .that it was something other
than Dom being here with me. He’d be gone, and the disappointment would be
crushing. It was like being haunted, and the damned man wasn’t even dead.

“Brian.” My eyes opened, and I saw a shadow in the darkness.
Visions of Dom had also occurred as well, but not as often. No, his voice
became my conscience, but sometimes I’d see him in a chair drinking a Corona,
or he’d be at the table laughing or smiling at me. Sometimes he’d just be
standing in front of me talking to me or he’d tell me that he loves me before
disappearing. When the latter had started, I realized that I must be masochist
because only the mind of person who enjoys pain would trick you into thinking
your greatest wish had come true and then making you lose it over and over
again. I shook my head again, trying to dislodge this apparition in front me. God,
delusions and hallucinations. Maybe I’ve finally gone nuts. It was something
I’d often wondered, but then I realized that if I got to spend forever with
Dom, I’d be all right with that.

“Leave me alone,” I mumbled and closed my eyes, not in the
mood to deal with this. The day was bad enough without having to deal with this
too.

Soon, warm lips hit my cheek. Startled, I scrambled away and
landed with my face on the floor. His warm chuckle filled my ears, and shock
filled my body. Turning over, I squinted into the darkness and saw that the
person was still there.

“Dom?” I whispered.

“You’re a hard man to find, Bri.”

Still hazy from sleep and hung over, I couldn’t muster up
the energy to rage at him for putting me through this. “How. . .?” I
spluttered.

“Mia,” he answered simply.

“Oh.” That made sense. I wrote Mia about the arrangements
I’d made, included an official letter from Bilkins’ office, and had had the
Beast delivered to their place.

I took a deep breath and stood up, edging my way around Dom
to the kitchen. “Why are you here?” I asked, as I grabbed a glass of water and
turned to look into his twinkling brown eyes.

“For you.”

My heart sped up. My mouth went dry. A golf ball lodged in
my throat. I gulped down the water, trying to gain control of myself and asked
the question that could change everything, “Why?” If it was just out of
gratitude, I’d shoot the man myself. Doesn’t matter how much I love him.

He stepped towards me and when he was about an inch away
from me, he whispered “Cuz I love you too.” Then, he kissed me. Later, I
wrapped my arms around Dom’s waist as he cooked us dinner and took a deep
breath of his unique scent.Yup, I’m an
addict, and you know what? I’m okay with that.